


The Spaces in Between

by silver_sun



Series: The spaces series [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children of Earth Compliant, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-03
Updated: 2010-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_sun/pseuds/silver_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a distant planet, Jack struggles to come to terms with everything that has happened, however his world is about to change again when Ianto Jones, from a parallel Earth, arrives seeking his help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to [](http://alt-universe-me.livejournal.com/profile)[**alt_universe_me**](http://alt-universe-me.livejournal.com/)  for being a great beta, and to [](http://heddychaa.livejournal.com/profile)[**heddychaa**](http://heddychaa.livejournal.com/)  for her lovely fan mix.

_**Fic: The Spaces In Between - Part one.**_  
 **Title:** The Spaces in Between  
 **Author:** [](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/profile)[**the_silver_sun**](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/)  
 **Artist/Fan mixer:** [](http://heddychaa.livejournal.com/profile)[**heddychaa**](http://heddychaa.livejournal.com/)  
 **Beta:** [](http://alt-universe-me.livejournal.com/profile)[**alt_universe_me**](http://alt-universe-me.livejournal.com/)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Past Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, alt!Tosh/alt!Owen, Jack/alt!Ianto friendship (or pre-slash if you want to see it as that.)  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Word count:** 18,500 (in seven parts)  
 **Warnings:** Mention of past canon character deaths. CoE compliant. Non-graphic death of a whole planet. Spoilers for Doctor Who episodes Stolen Earth and Journeys End.  
 **Summary:** On a distant planet, Jack struggles to come to terms with everything that has happened, however his world is about to change again when Ianto Jones, from a parallel Earth, arrives seeking his help.  
 **Notes:** A big thank you to [](http://alt-universe-me.livejournal.com/profile)[**alt_universe_me**](http://alt-universe-me.livejournal.com/)  for being a great beta, and to [](http://heddychaa.livejournal.com/profile)[**heddychaa**](http://heddychaa.livejournal.com/)  for her lovely fan mix.

Fan Mix can be found [here](http://community.livejournal.com/hauldyourwhist/22508.html):

Available as a PDF here: <http://www.sendspace.com/file/jka2va>

  


  
Part one

The bar is dark, the dim orange glow of decrepit sodium lights on the walls doing little to alleviate the gloom. Alcohol, tobacco and exotic spices war with stale sweat in the humid air, while the chatter of a dozen different alien races is frequently interrupted by the roar of ships taking off from the nearby spaceport.

Sat in one of the corner booths, Jack drinks with the single-minded determination of a man seeking oblivion. Nobody bothers him, not even the prostitutes and hawkers who work the bars hoping to make some fast cash from the travellers who've just come off the deep space transports and mining ships. Whether it's because of the ripped and bloodstained greatcoat he huddles into like it's his armour against the world or the look in his eyes, Jack doesn't know or care; he's not looking for company, not tonight.

Picking up the bottle on the table in front of him, Jack closes his eyes as he takes another long drink. He's not sure what the drink is called, he'd just asked the bartender for something that was strong and inexpensive. Nor does he care that it tastes like cheap vodka mixed with something vaguely floral, all that matters is that it's getting him drunk, and it's doing it fast.

Because tonight all he wants to do is forget. Forget why he's here in this seedy bar next to a run down spaceport, forget why he left Earth all those months ago, forget the faces of all the people that he has failed. It's worse than failure though, it's killed, murdered his own flesh and blood. Stephen, who'd been a child with his whole life ahead of him, lies dead, while he, nothing but a freak of nature who's already lived far too long, gets to go on living.

A sob wells up in his throat, the harshness of the cheap alcohol making him cough and splutter. Jack stares at the bottle through tear-blurred eyes, wondering why he thought he could ever deserve to forget, or have any peace, after what he did.

Disgusted at himself, Jack hurls the bottle away, knowing he won't drink any more of it tonight.

The bottle shatters off the door frame narrowly missing two Hath who've just walked in. They glare at him, their water respirators bubbling rapidly as they call over to the Judoon who acts as a bouncer for the bar.

Large, and heavily scarred across his face and arms, the Judoon, most likely pensioned off from his mercenary unit to find work wherever he can, turns to look at him.

Realising that he's no longer wanted in the bar, Jack stands up quickly, intending to leave before he's thrown out. The room seems to spin as he tries to walk round the table, and he realises he's considerably more drunk than he thought he was.

He's about to tell the Judoon that he's not going to make any trouble, but the Judoon snorts bad-temperedly, obviously uninterested in what Jack has to say. Grabbing Jack's arm, he twists it behind his back and forcibly walks him to the door of the bar.

It's raining outside, torrential and cold, making deep puddles in the worn pavement in front of the bar. The Judoon pushes Jack forcefully outside, letting go of him as he does so, causing him to stumble and fall forwards. Jack doesn't have enough time, or coordination to put out his hands to try and soften the fall, and he lands hard.

The Judoon rumbles something that Jack guesses means something along the lines of 'you're barred' before lumbering back inside the bar.

Jack lies for a moment in the rain soaked street before rolling over with a groan. Looking up at the stars and the lights of the various ships waiting to land, Jack is wondering if he's sober enough to stand up without the aid of a wall to lean on when his vortex manipulator emits a long low beep, followed by a static crackle of interference before going silent again.

Frowning, Jack sits up and opens the cover to check the incoming transmissions. The readings are strange, as if the vortex manipulator had been trying to receive a message from itself.

The only explanation that comes to Jack's less than clear mind is that it has started malfunctioning. It's not a pleasant conclusion to come to, as without it he's stranded on this planet unless he can either get a job on one mining ships or freighters or find somebody who'll hire him for whatever they need doing. Given the age of the manipulator though, and all the damage it has taken over the years, Jack knows that it should probably have burnt out years ago or that the intentional breaking of it by the Doctor should have proved permanent.

Checking the readings again, and then the power settings, Jack tries to reassure himself that it's not about to stop working again. Eventually, once he's satisfied that whatever the glitch was that had affected it isn't about to cause it to burn out, Jack gets slowly to his feet.

He can feel the effects of the alcohol starting to diminish already, and not for the first time Jack hates the fact that his immortality seems to affect ability to get and stay drunk as badly as it affects sleeping and dying. He's not in the mood to try and find another bar though, and with rain starting to fall more heavily, he decides to head back to the motel room that he's renting.

He's most of the way back to the motel when somebody on the street behind him shouts, “Jack, wait!”

Jack stops, but doesn't turn round. He knows he's not so drunk that he's likely to be hallucinating, but the voice is so impossibly familiar that he can't face the disappointment that has to happen when he does.

Running footsteps sound sharply on the wet pavement behind him, but still Jack doesn't move. After a moment the footsteps stop just behind him, and a hand grips his shoulder.

A little out of breath from running the man asks, “Jack?”

The accent, the gentle yet firm grip, even the hint of self-doubt in the way he ask his name, and Jack's voice wavers slightly as he says, “Ianto?”

“Not exactly. I am Ianto Jones, but I'm not your Ianto.”

Jack turns round slowly, heart pounding. Needing to know, but still afraid at what he'll find.

The pain and sorrow in this Ianto's eyes is clear as they, just for a moment, meet Jack's. Then he looks away, adding sadly, “Just the same as you're not my Jack.”

He's right. Jack can tell that straight away. As while there are similarities between this Ianto and his there are obvious differences as well. This Ianto is a little older, and looks thinner and more careworn than his ever did, even in the immediate aftermath of Lisa's death.

His suit fits badly, although Jack suspects that is because he's lost weight since he bought it. The obviously heavy, and improvised rig holding a variety of power cells that he's wearing over it doesn't do much for its fit either.

The power cells, some of designs that Jack recognises and some that he doesn't, have been daisy-chained together with surge protectors and circuit breakers ingeniously linked in. There's probably enough energy there to power a small city for a few weeks. It's certainly far more than is needed simply for teleportation, or even for time travel, unless you're travelling millennia in a single jump without the benefit of the Doctor's help.

The only possibility that Jack can think of is inter-dimensional travel. However, that shouldn't be possible, not any more, the Doctor had been quite clear on the matter to him after he'd returned Rose to what is now her world; the window for travel between parallel worlds was closed. He'd not questioned it; he wonders now if he should have, even though it's doubtful he would have been told any more even if he had.

Bitterness that he'd never thought he'd feel towards the Doctor wells up fuelled by grief, as he's suddenly sure that the Doctor wouldn't have trusted him with that kind of information anyway, not if his attitude towards allowing him to have a functional teleport was anything to go by.

A teleport that could have saved so many lives. He could have saved Owen, got Tosh to a hospital, Tosh would have worked out the 456's frequency with ease and nobody would have died. Closing his eyes, Jack lets misery wash over him.

“Are you all right?” Ianto asks, sounding concerned as he gestures at the bruise on Jack's face from where he'd collided with the pavement outside the bar.

“Yeah,” Jack replies, opening his eyes, although he's uncertain if he actually is. Physically he knows he is, that he always will be, but emotionally and mentally he can't even begin to say, not any more.

“You lost him, didn't you?” Ianto says softly, putting a hand on Jack's arm.

Jack nods, unable for a moment to speak. The grief is still too raw, and having this Ianto so close to him is doing nothing to help.

“I'm sorry.” He gives Jack's arm a small squeeze.

An awkward silence follows, with neither knowing what to say.

“This isn't Earth, is it?” Ianto asks, after a moment, looking up at the sky. A sky which is so lit up with light pollution that only the brightest of stars and the planet's three moons are visible through the gaps in the rain clouds.

“No,” Jack replies, grateful that Ianto has changed the subject and hasn't asked him how his counter part in this world died. Thinking for a moment, Jack turns and points to the left of the smallest of the moons. “Earth's about eighty light years that way.”

“Oh.” Ianto sounds surprised, as if he hadn't considered the possibility that he would materialise anywhere other than Earth.

Frowning at the patch of sky that Jack has pointed to, Ianto pushes up his sleeve to reveal a vortex manipulator, similar in design to Jack's.

“You're a Time Agent?” Jack asks, surprised. He knows that there are likely to be differences, possibly very big differences, between a person from a parallel worlds and the same person from his own. But Ianto as a Time Agent isn't a difference he would have thought of.

“No. It was Jack's.” Ianto's voice is tight from emotions barely kept in check as opens its cover. Not giving Jack the opportunity to ask why the Jack in his world no longer wanted or needed it, Ianto asks, “The Earth is still there, isn't it?”

“Where else would it be?” Jack replies, wondering if the now almost faded alcohol in his system is making him misunderstand Ianto's question.

“Lost, wandering through dead space. The planets were all pulled out of alignment last year,” Ianto says distractedly as he presses a couple of buttons on the vortex manipulator. “You should know this. I doubt your Earth escaped.”

Jack shakes his head. “It didn't. But the Doctor fixed it.”

“Different world, same blind faith,” Ianto says bitterly, accessing the coordinates and data about where he is.

“What do you mean?” Jack asks, not happy with Ianto's tone of voice.

“I mean my Earth never got put back into its proper orbit. My world lost its Doctor years ago.”

“He's dead?” Jack asks, shocked. Even though it's not his Doctor it's still hard to hear. It also makes him worry about why the Doctor didn't come to help.

“He turned his back on us,” Ianto replies a little distractedly as he tries to make sense of the readings on the modified vortex manipulator. “Thought we were causing too much trouble, that we'd cost him too much.”

“He wouldn't.” Jack hates the doubt in his voice, but after what happened with the 456 there have been times that he's had a hard time convincing himself of it. Rationally he knows that he Doctor can't be everywhere, can't always be the one to save the planet, but it's hard being rational when you've lost everything, and time doesn't seem to be making it any easier.

Ianto laughs humourlessly. “You really believe that?”

“I _know_ it.” Jack realises that despite everything he really does still believe in the Doctor, knows that if the Doctor had been able to help he would have. He just hopes that there isn't a reason beyond he just didn't get the messages; he's not sure he could deal with losing the Doctor as well, not with everything else that has happened.

“He's a lucky man to have a friend like you. I hope he realises it,” Ianto says grudgingly.

But before Jack can ask any further questions a light begins to flash on one of the power cells.

"No," Ianto says mostly to himself. Closing the vortex manipulator, he flicks a switch on the surge protector nearest the flashing power cell. “No, you don't. Not now."

The light goes out for a moment, before coming back on brighter than before. Ianto's eyes widen, scared as he flicks the switch again. This time there is no change, the light continuing to flash, the pulses of light becoming faster and faster.

It's one of the power cells that Jack doesn't recognise the design of, but given Ianto's obvious concern, he's sure that it's a overload warning light. "Ianto, is there anything I can do?"

Ianto ignores him, looking quickly around at the densely packed buildings, trying to come to a decision. Then, with an expression that manages to be both scared and resigned at the same time, he takes hold of the wires connecting the power cell and pulls.

The circuit breaks with a burst of escaping energy that knocks them both off their feet with the force of the release.


	2. Chapter 2

Part two.

Laying on the ground for the second time that evening, Jack closes his eyes, not wanting to consider the possibility that he might have lost this Ianto before he's even got to know him. The fact that his ears are ringing, and he feels more than a little sick as his body tries to rapidly metabolise the alcohol he'd drank, is doing nothing to encourage movement.

Nearby, Ianto groans.

That Ianto is alive is all the incentive Jack needs, and he scrambles back to his feet, and hurries over to him. "Hey, take it easy." Jack puts a steadying hand on Ianto's shoulder as he struggles to sit up.

Sitting in the rain-filled gutter, Ianto nods looking dazed, then frowns and shakes his head, unsure of which is the correct response.

"You alright?" Jack asks, concerned.

"Um." Ianto sounds as dazed as he looks. “Yes?”

Although the energy escaping from the power cell hadn't made a noise Jack doesn't want to draw any more attention to them than necessary, and he asks, “You think you can stand?”

“Try.” Ianto stands slowly on shaky legs. Swaying slightly, he grips Jack's arm to steady himself, a look of pain crossing his face as he does so.

“Let me take a look,” Jack asks, realising that pulling the wires free from the power cell will have almost certainly injured Ianto's hand.

Ianto nods, looking rather disorientated, as he starts to shiver.

Turning Ianto's hand over carefully Jack inspects the damage. Ianto's palm is red where he's gripped the power cable, the skin raised in a welt that is already starting to blister.

Although it looks nasty and is obviously painful, Jack knows that it's not serious enough to really need anything other than cold water and some antiseptic to for it to heal.

“No time.” Ianto sounds distracted and a little confused, as he pulls his hand away from Jack. “Need to fix this. Need to get back, need to tell them I've found somewhere. Not much time.”

“You weren't looking for me?” Jack sounds hurt, although he knows that he has no right to be.

“No.” Stumbling away, Ianto moves to lean against the wall of the nearest building, his shivering becoming more pronounced. “Just your vortex manipulator, needed a known point in this world to lock on to. You just happened to be with it. Sorry”

He runs his uninjured hand through his hair, the rain making it stick out in wet spikes. “They're going to think I'm dead.” A noise close to a sob is choked back, as he adds, “Or that I've abandoned them. I'd never do that.” He looks at Jack, eyes filled with misery. “They're all I have.”

“You have me.” Jack steps in closer.

“I don't even know you.”

“You're Ianto Jones, that enough for me,” Jack says, putting an arm around his shoulders. “You'll need somewhere dry to work on that.” He gestures at the damaged power cell, realising that Ianto is much more concerned with that than his own well-being. “I've got a room you can use.”

Ianto nods, looking cold and exhausted.

Unfortunately walking down the street wearing enough stored energy to blow up half the city is likely to draw all sorts of unwanted attention, especially from the law. So, Jack takes off his coat and drapes it over Ianto's shoulders, hiding the power cells from view.

Jack is grateful that his motel room isn't far, as given his own less than sober state, and the fact that Ianto is shivering so badly that he's stumbling worse than himself, Jack doubts that they'd manage much further than the few streets that it is.

Despite the short distance they are both soaking wet by the time that Jack manages to find his key card and let them into his room.

The room is sparsely furnished; a bed, a table and chair and a rail to hang clothes on comprise most of the furnishings, while a door in the corner leads through to a small bathroom. While the the deep rumble of the ships taking off taking off at the nearby spaceport can be heard through the thin walls.

As soon as they are in the room Ianto stumbles away from Jack to sit down on the bed. Although obviously exhausted, Ianto seems a little more aware than he had done immediately after the shock, as Jack sits down next to him.

After a moment, and when Ianto has made no move to get out of his wet clothes, Jack says, “You need to get out of those clothes.” Before he starts to remove the power cell rig.

Ianto smiles, a little melancholy, his voice wistful as he says, “You said that the first time we met.”

“No, I didn't,” Jack replies, putting the power cells on the table. They are surprisingly heavy, and Jack can see why Ianto had been out of breath running after him.

Giving him a puzzled look, Ianto asks, “I didn't fall in Cardiff Bay here?”

“I met you, him,” Jack corrects himself, wondering if it'll get easier in time not make these mistakes, or if this Ianto will stay around long enough for him to have the chance to. “In Bute Park, he dragged a weevil off me.”

“He made a better first impression than I did then,” Ianto says, starting to unbutton his shirt. A moment later he stops and swears, holding his injured hand.

“We need to do something about that.”

“I can deal with it,” Ianto says, looking around. “I don't suppose you have a first aid kit I could borrow?”

“No.” One of the downsides to his own accelerated healing is, Jack knows, that it means he doesn't keep anything in the way of a first aid kit with him. “But I know a man who has.”

It's not exactly true, Gorm, the motel's proprietor should keep a basic first aid kit there for his employees that he can borrow. Gorm hadn't exactly struck Jack as the type who really cared too much about rules, provided he got paid – it was one of the reasons that he'd taken a room here.

Opening the door, Jack says, “Stay there, I won't be long.”

“And where else exactly would I go?” Ianto replies, pain and tiredness making him irritable, as he starts to awkwardly strip off his wet clothes.

The motel's reception isn't exactly inviting, although Jack is fairly sure that Gorm, likes it that way as it deters people from bothering him about anything other than paying their bill or handing over keys.

One of Gorm's eyestalks swivels round to look at Jack as he walks in, while the other three stay where they are watching what appears to be a race between a dozen giant, ostrich-like birds, with small reptilian jockeys on their backs, on a view screen.

“You have a first aid kit I could use?” Jack asks, looking over the counter to see if he can spot one.

Gorm doesn't reply, most of his eyes still focussed on the match, but one of his secondary tentacled arms disappears beneath the counter and into a cupboard to retrieve a battered-looking case.

Dropping it on the top of the counter, only just missing Jack's fingers, Gorm says, “Replacement costs for what you use get added to your bill. If you get blood over the room, clean up costs extra. If anyone dies, the motel takes no responsibility.”

“Thanks.” Jack opens the case, checking that it is a first aid kit, before returning to his room.

Gorm grunts disinterestedly, before going back to watching the game.

 

Ianto is standing at the window when Jack returns. Feet bare and stripped to the waist, braces hanging loose, he watches the ships taking off from the spaceport with a melancholy expression.

“It doesn’t seem fair,” he says without turning round. “Jack told me so much about what it was like off planet, I wish he could be here see it.”

It seems strange to see Ianto dressed like this, the braces giving his outfit an old-fashioned look. Although Jack has to admit it does suit him.

“The view from the Vlox Tower at the spaceport is better.”

“Don't tell me you have a thing for roofs as well?” Ianto asks, turning to face him.

As he does, Jack can see a scar running across his collarbone and onto his left shoulder, the skin twisted slightly where it has healed slightly crooked.

“It's not as bad as it looks, the bullet went across rather than in,” Ianto says, noting Jack's expression. “Owen made a good job of it, I can barely tell it's there any more.”

“What happened?” Jack asks, although he's not entirely sure that he wants to know.

“Cosmic retribution.” Ianto laughs briefly, the answer obviously meaning something more to him.

At Jack's bemused look, he explains, “The Pharm, I pushed Owen out of the way, and got shot instead of him. Owen said it was only fair being as I'd shot him once.”

“Owen is alive?” Jack asks, surprised and hopeful as he puts the first aid kit down on the table.

“Yes.” Ianto sits down on the bed. “I don't think, actually I know, me and Tosh wouldn't be here with out him.”

Jack doesn't answer, not wanting deal with all the painful memories that this conversation is pushing to the front of his mind. Instead he turns his attention to the first aid kit. It isn't exactly well-stocked, but there is a tube of antiseptic that Jack recognises as being suitable for humans.

“At least it wasn't your other hand,” Jack comments, opening the tube.

“Why? I'm not right-handed.”

“You're not?”

“No, I-” Ianto stops, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell of the cream, now that the tube is open. “Urgh, that smells disgusting.”

“It works though.” Jack squeezes some out onto his fingertips, then carefully, and as gently as he can, starts to apply it to the burn.

Ianto gasps, his free hand digging into the bed covers.

“Just give it a minute.”

“To do what?” Ianto asks, looking like he's about to get away to wash it off. “Burn the rest of my hand off?”

“To work,” Jack reassures him. “It'll numb your hand in a minute, help it heal up a bit quicker.”

Ianto just glares at him.

A few minutes later and the look of discomfort on Ianto's face has faded, and Jack asks, “So, how you feeling?”

“Sore, stupid, glad to be alive.” Ianto laughs, although he still sounds shaken by everything that has happened. “Just an average Torchwood working day, really.”

“What you did with the power cell, pulling the wire out, you risked your life so people around you stayed safe, aliens who aren't even from your world, that's not stupid.” Jack smiles at him. “Stupidly brave maybe, but never just stupid.”

Ianto blushes slightly, embarrassed. “If I hadn't we have been blown up anyway, so it's hardly selfless. Still wish I'd thought to pull my sleeve over hand first.”

“Well, you'll know for next time.”

“I hoping there isn't a next time,” Ianto says, then adds with a wry smile, “Although knowing my luck you're probably right.”

“There's a shower, if you want to get cleaned up.” Jack points to the door in the corner of the room. “It's not much, but the water is hot.”

“I probably should have done that first,” Ianto says, looking at the green cream drying across his palm. “It's going to wash off now, and I'm really not looking forward to putting it back on.”

“Just cover it.” Jack takes a plastic glove out of the first aid kit, and hands it to Ianto.

Ianto looks at it a little suspiciously, then holds it up, saying, “Six fingers, really?”

“Glix, two opposable thumbs on each hand, very talented-”

Ianto rolls his eyes.

“Hey, I was going to say musicians.”

“I'm sure you were,” Ianto says with mock sincerity, as he puts on the glove.


	3. Fic: The Spaces In Between - Part three.

Part three

With Ianto in the shower Jack takes the opportunity to get a better look at the vortex manipulator that Ianto had been wearing. The design is a little different from his own, but the basic functions are the same. The main difference being in how it has been retro-fitted to allow it to be connected directly to an external energy source.

Ianto's suit jacket and shirt are still lying on the bed, the rain soaking out of them and into the sheets. As Jack picks up the suit jacket, a small, and currently rather damp, leather-bound book falls out of the inside pocket.

Hoping that it will give him some idea of how Ianto is managing to travel between worlds, Jack opens the book and starts to read.

It isn't an instruction manual, as Jack had hoped, but a diary. The handwriting is small, neat and rather old-fashioned.

 _I dreamt of Jack again last night. I don't know any more whether it's blessing or a curse that I see him almost every time I close my eyes._

 _Being without him hurts, knowing that he gave his life for us, to try to save us. It's like a weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe sometimes._

 _Rationally, I know that is because the oxygen filters are failing again, and me and Tosh need to try another repair. Irrationally, when I am alone in the late hours of the night, knowing that I am one of few people left alive on this dying planet, I have to wonder if it is not a broken heart._

"Oh, Ianto," Jack says quietly.

"Give it here!" Ianto says angrily, voice hoarse with emotion, as he snatches the book out of Jack's hands. Soaking wet from the shower, and wearing only a towel, he glares at Jack. "You had no right, that's private."

Startled by Ianto sudden reappearance, Jack can't think of any excuses; none that are particularly plausible anyway, so he apologises. “I'm sorry, I wanted to know about you, where you come from.”

“Next time just ask,” Ianto snaps, putting the diary back into his suit pocket. “Like normal people do.”

“So if I ask you'll just tell me?” Jack asks, a little sceptically.

“Why wouldn't I?” Ianto replies, obviously still annoyed. “You've helped me even though you had no reason to even trust me.”

“I told you, you're Ianto Jones, and that all that matters.”

Ianto seems like he's about to correct Jack about this, but sighs instead, and says, “All right, ask.”

“You said the Earth, your Earth, was left out of place.”

Ianto nods, although he doesn't look happy about talking about it. Jack suspects that's more because of the subject rather than the fact that he's being asked about it.

“Have you come here to try to find a way of getting it back where it should be?” Jack is sure that the Doctor would be able to do it, providing of course it's not one of those fixed events that even he can't change.

“No,” Ianto says sadly. “It's too late for that. It's been months, the Earth is dead. Everybody thought the lack of sunlight would be the worse thing.” He looks at Jack, his expression bleak. “We were wrong.”

Abruptly, Ianto gets up, asking, “Have you got anything to drink?”

“Yeah.” Jack retrieves a half-empty bottle of spirits that has rolled under the bed. “But I don't think it's a good idea.”

“Probably not,” Ianto replies, but takes the bottle from Jack anyway. Pouring a generous measure into a glass left on the table, he looks around for another for Jack.

Jack shakes his head. “I've had enough for tonight.”

Sitting back down, glass in hand, Ianto says, with an enforced calm, “It was about two weeks after it happened that the magnetic field started to fail, and the Earth stopped spinning on it's axis.” He drinks some of the alien spirits barely acknowledging the unfamiliar burn.

“It wasn't long after that that the atmosphere began to fail as well. There wasn't much time to do anything other than form a few safe havens. It didn't last. One by one all the havens died, their power running out, their atmosphere venting into space. People suffocated where they stood.” The horror of the memories is clear in his eyes as he looks at Jack.

“Then how-” Jack begins.

“Did I survive?” Ianto finishes for him, his voice no longer entirely steady. “It was Jack. He saved us, he tried -” Ianto stops, fighting to keep control of his emotions. Putting the mostly full glass down on the floor, he takes a deep breath, then continues. “There was a device, it came through the Rift years ago, it was for transferring energy. Jack...Jack used it on himself, he said he had life to spare. He was convinced that if he could just buy us some more time the Doctor would come, that he'd fix everything.”

Jack doesn't ask if he had; Ianto's earlier bitterness towards the Doctor has already answered that question.

“He linked it to the shield and time lock on the Hub, extended it out over Cardiff.”

“So Cardiff is safe?” Jack asks, hope flaring. “I don't suppose...my grandson.”

“You, he, couldn't have children, not in my world.” Ianto puts his hand on Jack's knee. “But if he had, I know he'd have done everything he could to keep them safe.”

“Then he's a better man than I am.” Lifting Ianto's hand off his leg, Jack gets up, not feeling able to accept any comfort, not about this. Causing Stephen's death is the worse thing he's done, even if it saved the lives of countless other children across the world, he's sure he should have found another way. The fact that he's not sure it would have affected him so badly if it had been a different child, if it had been a stranger pleading with him to stop, only serves to heighten his current feeling of self-loathing.

“Don't know you well enough to say.” Ianto follows Jack to where he's standing at the window, looking out at the night sky.

“I'm not a good person, the things I've done...” Jack closes his eyes, feeling sick and ashamed, tears hot and wet running down his cheeks. “If you knew, you'd get as far away from me as you can.”

“I don't know, and I don't expect you to tell me.” Ianto stands shoulder to shoulder with him. “But the fact that you're this unhappy about it means you wouldn't have done whatever it was lightly. Only good people worry they're not good enough, bad people just don't care.”

Jack laughs humourlessly, not wanting Ianto to try an offer him forgiveness. “Where did you get that pearl of wisdom? A take-out fortune cookie?”

“My father, actually.” There's no animosity in Ianto's voice, although the tone dares Jack to contradict him.

He doesn't, knowing that all it will cause is bad feelings between them. Instead he asks, “So what's the plan for saving Cardiff?” Moving everybody two or three people at a time using the vortex manipulator is going to be nearly impossible both in terms of power and time needed.

“There isn't. There's not a Cardiff left to save. The shields started to fail a few hours before Jack...” Ianto stops, trying to gain composure, but failing. “I think he knew what would happen. He'd sealed the door, so that it would only unlock when the energy transfer was complete. He knew we'd try to stop him.”

“I couldn't even be with him when...” Ianto stops, wiping his eyes. “He shouldn't have been alone, not then. No one should be. I just wanted to be able to tell him how I felt.” He looks at Jack red-eyed. “You understand that, don't you?”

“Yeah. I understand.” Jack puts an arm round him, although whether it's to comfort Ianto or himself, he's not entirely sure.

“It was all for nothing, the shields failed anyway,” Ianto continues, angry and upset. “We managed to get the shields back up, but we lost Cardiff, they barely cover the Hub. There's only me, Tosh and Owen left.”

“I'm sorry.” It seems so inadequate, but he doesn't know what else to say. The death of a whole planet is loss on a scale that thankfully even he hasn't witnessed.

Ianto nods, turning his face towards Jack's shoulder.

The way his breath catches leaves Jack in little doubt that Ianto is crying, although it's an otherwise silent outpouring of grief.

“Ianto?” Jack asks quietly, after Ianto's breathing has evened out, and he's started to lean a little more heavily against him.

“Sorry, I can't seem to stay awake.” Still leaning against Jack, Ianto gestures vaguely at the vortex manipulator lying on the table. “Does travelling with that thing do this?”

“It can do.” Although Jack suspects that it's more to do with the fact that Ianto looks like he's been running on empty for some time. Too much stress, too little food and sleep combined with the dimensional jump and the electrical shock lead his body to decide that enough is enough and force him to rest.

“You take the bed,” Jack says, letting go of Ianto.

“What about you?” Ianto looks at the bed, then at Jack.

“I don't need much sleep.”

Ianto gives him a curious look, but anything he was going ask is lost in a yawn.

Lying down on the bed, Ianto is asleep almost straight away.

Despite what he's just said, Jack knows that he should try to get some rest himself. He knows that before they can think about travelling to Ianto's world to get Tosh and Owen they'll need to check all the power cells for damage caused by the burst of escaping energy.

Walking over to where his greatcoat is hanging on the back of the door, Jack takes a small bottle out of the pocket. He'd bought it from a black market trader who'd specialised in medical supplies. He'd been desperate when he'd bought it, soon after he'd left Earth, not having managed more than a couple of hours of nightmare-filled sleep in the previous month.

A sleeping draft that would keep him out for four or five hours with no nightmares had been exactly what he'd needed. And while Jack knows that he doesn't physically need to sleep any more, mentally the human brain can only take so much wakefulness before it starts to protest. So while nightmares are a fairly frequent unpleasant side effect of sleeping, the certainty of hallucinations caused by extreme sleep deprivation mean that he does on occasion force himself to rest.

Turning the bottle over in his hands a few times, Jack eventually replaces it in the pocket, not wanting to use it unless it's a last resort, as he knows that once he's taken it he'll be so deeply asleep that Ianto will not be able to wake him, even in an emergency. It's one of the reasons that he's only used it twice in the five months that he's been away from Earth.

The chair isn't the easiest place to sleep, and after several minutes of trying and failing to get even remotely comfortable, Jack decides that the floor is probably the best option.

Folding up his coat to use as a pillow, Jack is about to lie down, when Ianto starts mumbling in his sleep.

Ianto moves restlessly, covers tangling about him, until a few moments later, he gasps, eyes opening wide and fearful. He lays there for a moment, breath hitching as he slowly calms down.

"Nightmare?" Jack asks, when he's sure that Ianto is awake enough not to be startled by his presence. He knows how bad dreams can sometimes be, how painfully vivid and real they seem.

"No worse than usual." Ianto replies, sounding exhausted. The haunted look in his eyes suggests that the usual, whatever it is, is pretty awful. Getting out of bed, Ianto says, "You might as well use it. I'm not going to be getting any more sleep tonight."

“You've not even had an hour,” Jack points out, knowing that the brief and troubled sleep that Ianto got can't be anywhere near enough to make him feel any more alert.

Dragging on his still damp shirt, Ianto walks over to the where the power cells have been left on the table. "I should start work on this anyway. I've wasted enough time as it is."

Jack watches Ianto unsuccessfully try to fasten the button on his shirt before saying, "You really think it's a good idea to try and a fix power cell that could blow up half the city, when you can't even do up a button because your hands are shaking?"

"They are?” Ianto looks down at his hands, concerned. He flexes his fingers, wincing as the movement causes the burn on his injured hand pull and ache.

"You're exhausted, you try doing anything with those cells right now and you're going to break them, or blow them up. And that's not going to help anyone."

Ianto nods, looking defeated.

“You should try to get some more sleep.”

“So should you,” Ianto says sitting back down on the bed. “You look as tired as I feel. When did you last sleep?”

“A few days ago,” Jack says, more as a guess than anything else. He's fairly sure it hasn't been as much as a week yet.

“You're like him, aren't you?” Ianto asks, looking at Jack with an expression that is as much sad as it is curious. “Something happened to you, changed you.”

“The man who can't die,” Jack says with bitter amusement.

“My Jack said that too,” Ianto replies sadly. “Tosh will be pleased though.”

“That I'm a freak?”

“That her theory was right.” He looks at Jack, sounding a little annoyed as he adds, “And don't call yourself that.”

“Her theory?”

“Dimensional resonance. That as Jack was a fixed point in our world other Jacks were therefore significantly more likely to also be a fixed point in other worlds,” Ianto explains. “It's why we used your vortex manipulator as a known point. It was a safeguard as well, the stronger the correlation we got between the two known points the greater the similarities between our worlds were likely to be.”

“That's brilliant,” Jack says, impressed. It makes him miss Toshiko even more, knowing that she would have found her parallel world counterpart's theory fascinating.

“Yes, she is,” Ianto says fondly, lying back down, and pulling the covers over himself. Looking at Jack's coat folded on the floor he says, “You don't have to sleep on the floor, the bed is big enough for us both.”

“You don't mind?”

“I'm too tired to mind.” He rolls over, eyes already closing.

After removing his boots, Jack turns out the light, then lays down fully dressed on top of the covers. With Ianto sleeping beside him, Jack lies still not wanting to disturb him. Looking up at the darkened ceiling, the night slowly passing, until eventually he also falls asleep.


	4. Fic: The Spaces In Between - Part four

Part four.

Warm morning sunlight floods through the window, and Jack wakes.

Some time during in the night, Ianto has curled against him, an arm draped loosely about his waist, breath warm against the back of Jack's neck.

Jack lies there, warm, content, and still half asleep, his mind filled with the memories of the few lazy mornings that he and Ianto had managed to spend together when the Rift had been quiet, until the roar of a ship's engine high above the motel jars him fully awake.

Reality hurts, and he swallows hard, a lump in his throat, the sudden rush of loss and grief threatening to overwhelm him.

Carefully lifting Ianto's arm so as not to disturb him, Jack gets off the bed, and heads to the bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Jack runs the taps, splashing cold water over his face, until he's satisfied that he is properly awake and back in control of his emotions.

Ianto is still asleep when Jack leaves the bathroom. Not wanting to start working on the power cells without him, and realising that Ianto is likely to be hungry as well when he wakes, Jack lets himself out of the room as quietly as he can, and heads to the nearest café he can find.

The motel is close to the spaceport and it doesn't take long for him to find one that serves food that's suitable for humans.

Ianto wakes up as Jack comes back in, the door closing loudly behind him.

“How you feeling?” Jack asks, putting the bag and drinks holder down on the table.

Ianto looks at Jack, bleary eyed. “Worse than I did after Owen's stag do, and that's saying something.”

“Owen got married?” Jack asks, surprised.

“Yes, Tosh asked him.” Ianto gets out of bed, biting back a groan as he accidentally leans on his injured hand. “I don't think I'd have been too bad after the stag night, it was only because of the frogs.”

“Frogs?” Jack hangs up his coat.

“Hallucinogenic alien frogs that somebody was trying to sell in the club as a natural high,” Ianto explains, putting on his shirt and trousers. “It took us weeks to catch all of them. Well, those that didn't explode anyway.”

“I miss fun aliens like that.”

“Yes.” Ianto smiles. “Although somehow I doubt the dry cleaner saw it that way when I dropped off my suit. The slime was disconcertingly sticky.”

Jack laughs, finding that for the first time in months he's actually looking forward to the day ahead. Not just because Ianto is there, but because he's working on something that that has meaning, something that isn't con designed to get him enough money to keep travelling, trying to outrun the heaviness in his heart, or when that fails as it always does, to pay for drinks so that just for a night be can pretend that it has.

“Wasn't sure what you'd want to eat, so I got what seemed popular,” Jack says, opening the bag, and handing Ianto a couple of flat breads filled with an egg and cheese mixture.

“Thank you,” Ianto says gratefully, sitting down to eat.

“Enjoying that?” Jack asks, when Ianto has eaten most of his breakfast in the space of a few minutes.

“'s good,” Ianto replies around a mouth full of food. “I mean, it's fresh food, bread.” He points to one of the flat breads. “You have no idea how much I've missed food that doesn't come out of a can.”

Jack just smiles. Although not really the same thing, he remembers growing up on the Boeshane Peninsula, colony world, where for half the year all the food needed to be imported; freeze dried food still reminds him of his childhood home.

Ianto looks at the mug of the local tea-like drink that Jack has bought him, and then asks, “This is maybe too much to hope, but people do drink coffee on Earth, don't they?”

“There's coffee.” Jack laughs, the memories of Ianto handing him his morning coffee, of him trying to teach Owen how to use the coffee machine without causing it to blow up, are so bittersweet that he knows it's either that or cry.

The mood turns serious again as Jack asks,“You're planning on going to Earth then?”

“Back to Cardiff, yes.” Ianto says slowly, trying to gauge what Jack's response to that is likely to be. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“What will you do about your family?”

“I, I mean he, had a family?” Ianto asks, surprised, sounding like he's never even considered the possibility.

“A sister, her husband, their kids.” Jack hasn't seen them since the funeral, unable to deal with their grief as well as his own, and the presence of Ianto's nephew, who'd been similar enough in age to Stephen, being too hard to bear. “Don't know how they'd take you turning up. Would you try to see them?”

“I don't know.” Ianto pushes the remaining food away from him. “I hadn't really though...” He sighs. “I'd lost my family before everything with the Earth being moved happened.”

“Ianto-”

“No, Jack. I can't deal with this, not right now.” Ianto gets up from the table. “After I get Owen and Tosh here safely, then I'll think about it.”

Seeing that Ianto doesn't want to continue with the conversation, Jack lets the matter drop.  
* * *

“Let's see what we've got,” Jack says, looking at the power cells laid out on the table. He knows it's going to be a slow job stripping down the power cells, checking them for damage and then reassembling them, before the can begin recharging them. He also knows that if even a single one is faulty and they try to use it the consequences could be devastating, as it could set off a chain reaction in the rest of the cells, causing an explosion that would destroy half the city.

One of the cells are from a cyberconversion unit. It's proof of how desperate the situation must be for Ianto to consider using it. Jack gives Ianto a questioning look.

“We had to use whatever was available, and this still worked,” Ianto says sounding unhappy about it. Taking it from Jack he asks, “Torchwood London being wiped out by Cybermen happened in your world too, didn't it?”

“Yeah,” Jack replies, deciding not to elaborate on what happened, especially about Lisa, unless Ianto asks.

He doesn't.

Ianto looks at the power cell for a few moments as if trying to come to a decision, then says, “Last night, I told you I met Jack when I fell in Cardiff Bay, it was because was trying to stow aboard one of the steamers. I hadn't considered that he would be on board having an rather intimate meeting with one of the crew.”

“Steamers?” Jack asks confused. “I thought they stopped running those out of Cardiff in the '60's.”

“No.” Ianto begins to take the outer casing off the power cell, a task made harder by the fact that he's trying not to put any strain on his injured hand. “I mean, what else would there be? Sailing ships?”

“Diesel, mostly.” Jack frowns, wondering just how different life had been in Ianto's world, and how easily he will be able to adjust to this one.

“I'd have thought that would be too expensive,” Ianto says mostly to himself.

After a few minutes Ianto asks, “You're not going to ask why I was trying to stow away on a ship?”

“I thought I knew,” Jack says, realising that he's making an assumption based on what happened in this world. “You were trying to help Lisa, taking her to somewhere to try and get the cyber conversion removed, right?”

“No. Lisa died in London, she was part of the team who blew up the generator cutting off the power and stopping the ghost shift. She helped save us all.” Ianto looks at him, a haunted expression in his eyes, as he puts the cell down. “But I saw what happened to those that had been converted, what the security teams did, that's why I was running. They didn't want people left around who knew.”

“They tried to kill all the survivors of the attack?” Jack asks, horrified. He knows that Torchwood One had been ruthless, but this is on completely different level.

“They were scared. Scared of what had happened, of what they'd done, scared that they'd be found out, and of what would happen to them.” Ianto shakes his head looking wearily and resigned. “People who are scared do stupid things.”

“It doesn't excuse it though,” Jack says, knowing that his own actions in Thames House could be seen in just such a way.

“I never said it did.” Ianto looks steadily at him. “But it makes it more understandable. After all, if we don't have understanding, what do we have?”

Jack doesn't have an answer. He sighs, wishing that he had Ianto's optimism.

Stopping only when necessary to eat and drink, they work late into the evening. Talking helps the time to pass quickly, despite progress on the power cells being frustratingly slow. The technological differences between their worlds form most of the conversation. The main difference is, as far as Jack tell, that Ianto's world had far less in the way of natural oil and gas reserves, and the technology had developed reflecting that.

Jack can see that Ianto is starting to struggle to keep working, both in terms of having enough energy and from the pain in his injured hand which he is forcing himself to use.

He is about to suggest that they take a break when the screwdriver Ianto is using to pry open one of the power cell casings slips, scoring a groove in the tabletop.

“I'll finish up,” Jack says, picking up the screwdriver before Ianto can make another attempt. He's impressed that Ianto has managed to work so hard for as long as he has. “It shouldn't take me too long. You get some rest if you want.”

Ianto looks like he's going to protest for moment, then nods wearily. “Alright, but wake me as soon as you're done.”

“Sure,” Jack lies easily. He's got no intention of waking Ianto so soon, not when Ianto will need all the rest he can get if he's not going to completely exhaust himself rescuing Tosh and Owen.

Not bothering to get undressed, Ianto falls asleep almost as soon as he lays down on the bed.

With Ianto asleep again, Jack turns his attention back to the two remaining power cells.

A couple of hours later, once the last of the power cells is checked and recharging, Jack walks over to the window, and looks at the city.

He knows that once Ianto has brought Owen and Tosh through to this world he'll to have to make the decision whether to stay here on his own or return to Earth with them.

He's never thought of himself as a coward, but the idea of going back to Cardiff, of having to face all the people he's let down, scares him.

Gwen who he's left to shoulder the burden of running Torchwood on her own. Alice whose trust he's betrayed so badly that he knows that there is nothing that he can do to ever repair hurt he's caused her. Even the people of Cardiff who he's left undefended against everything that the Rift throws at them.

Standing with one hand against the grimy pane, Jack looks up at the stars. Their light blurring, lost in a haze of tears, as he silently weeps for all that he's lost and all that he knows that he still has to lose.

 

* * *

 

Reconnecting all the recharged power cells and the circuit breakers in the right order takes the most of the morning. As soon as it is done Ianto connects his vortex manipulator to them.

“You're leaving?” Jack asks, surprised and a little disappointed that Ianto would go without even saying goodbye.

“Not right now.” Ianto smiles reassuringly at him. “I need to check that it's working correctly. I am going to have to leave soon though. You do understand, don't you?”

“Yeah.” Jack hates the idea of being left alone again, the last day reminding him of all that he's lost.

Switching it on, Ianto accesses the teleport controls. As he does, the display on the vortex manipulator lights up for a moment before flickering and then going out. He taps the screen, but nothing happens.

“Problem?” Jack asks.

“I think you're stuck with me for a bit longer,” Ianto says, disconnecting it.

Although it's said fairly lightly heartedly Jack can hear the barely disguised worry in Ianto's voice. “We'll fix it,” Jack reassures him. Then adds, knowing that now Ianto has the coordinates for this world they don't need his vortex manipulator home in on. “And if we can't you can use mine.”

“You'd do that for me?”

“I'm not going to let you down.”

Switching off the vortex manipulator, Jack waits for a moment, then tries turning it back on. It powers up with no problem, but as soon as he tries to access the teleport controls the screen goes dead the same as it had for Ianto.

“What do you think?” Ianto asks, as he watches Jack open vortex manipulator control panel.

“I think part of the teleport control circuit is malfunctioning.”

“I wish Tosh was here,” Ianto says dejectedly. “She'd know how to fix this.”

“I know what I'm doing,” Jack says. He's lost count of the number of times over the years that he's repaired, or tried to repair his vortex manipulator.

“I just feel so useless.” Ianto sighs, getting up and pacing.

“Don't. You've done all you can.”

“It doesn't feel like it's enough.”

“It never does,” Jack says sadly.

“Is Torchwood part of the military in this world?” Ianto asks, looking at the insignia on the greatcoat.

“No.” Jack looks round to see Ianto running his fingers over the eagle motif on the buttons. “I was in the RAF, well sort of.”

“RAF?” Ianto says sounding a little puzzled. “I'm not sure what that is, it's a beautiful coat though.” Looking at the stains on it with distaste, Ianto adds, “Well, it would be if you got it cleaned once in a while.”

“Yeah, I should.” Jack knows just how annoyed Ianto would be if he could see the state the coat was now in. “It was given to me after -” He stops. “You wouldn't be interested.”

“I don't think now is the time anyway,” Ianto says, leaving the coat, and walking back over to Jack. He sits on the edge of the table. “After all this is done though, maybe you could tell me about it. About him.”

“Maybe,” Jack says non-committally. He's not sure if he's ready to talk about what happened with the 456 or his relationship with Ianto, both memories hurt too much, although in completely different ways.

Opening Ianto's vortex manipulator, Jack can see that the internal layout is of a more basic design than his own, with all the chip sets and circuits working independently of each other. Hoping that he'll be able to find a way around the differences, Jack starts working on trying to find out which part controls the teleport and why it has stopped working.

It's slow, tedious work finding out exactly which part has gone wrong, but eventually he locates it. Unfortunately it's the spatial regulator; a vital part that allows the person teleporting to materialise safely. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, he could just swap it with his own. However the one in Ianto's vortex manipulator works separately from the other controls, and it's this separation that has allowed it to work as a dimension teleport. It's something that his own can't do.

Still hoping that he can somehow find a way to make his own vortex manipulator work like this, perhaps by switching off some of the functions or removing part of the circuit-board from his, Jack keeps working.

Eventually though, he has to admit defeat.

“I'm sorry,” Jack says, knowing that he's done all he can with what they've got available, having exhausted all the combination of parts he can think of to get either one of the vortex manipulators to work.

"No." Ianto looks bleakly at the pieces of the two vortex manipulators scattered on the table top. "There's no way of fixing it?"

"I didn't say that." Jack picks up the burnt out spatial regulator chip, running through the possible options of where they can get another quickly. Legal routes aren't really an option; he doesn't have that sort of money readily, but there are a couple of other possibilities. "If we'd been here a century or so later we could have picked one up from just about any trader we could find.”

“I can use it without,” Ianto says, not really listening to what Jack is saying, and trying to stop any objections before they're made. He gets up and starts pacing. “I've got the coordinates for the Hub on my world, and we can fine tune the ones for here.”

“No way,” Jack says quickly. “You try re-materialising without the regulator and you could end up appearing halfway through a wall or the floor.”

“I know it's a risk, but I’m not waiting any longer, Jack,” Ianto says defiantly. “And they can’t wait any longer. There's not much power left in the system, they might not have days for us work out how to repair this.”

“All right, there is one place, but if we going to go we need to go now,” Jack says, picking up his coat. He knows that without the time to plan properly the only thing they'll have in their favour while trying to get in is the cover of darkness.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

“It's going to be dangerous.” Jack's not entirely sure if he's trying to warn Ianto off coming with him, or if he's trying to remind himself not take any stupid risks with any lives other than his own.

“Nothing new there then,” Ianto says with a wry smile, as he follows Jack out of the motel, and into the night.


	5. Fic: The Spaces In Between - Part five.

Part five.

 

The spaceport's supply depot is a walled-off compound amongst the warehouses and goods yards that cluster around the the northern edge of the spaceport.

“How do you know so much about this place?” Ianto asks quietly, as Jack leads them without hesitation towards a lower section of wall.

“Honestly?” Jack looks around to make sure that they haven't been seen, before crouching down behind a row of refuse bins.

Ianto gives him a despairing look that seems to say 'why else would I be bothering' as he joins him.

“I was planning on robbing it, okay?” Jack admits. Falling back in to his old ways as a conman had been too easy. It hadn't been all that high on his list of things to do to get by, but it had been one of them never the less. What he hadn't planned on was having company.

“You're a thief?” Ianto stares at him, surprised, and not a little disappointed.

“I'm not a nice guy, remember, I get people killed,” Jack says darkly, the guilt of everything that he's done returning with a vengeance. He's suddenly very aware that he hasn't got a plan beyond 'get inside and deal with whatever happens as it happens.' And that went so well last time, he thinks bitterly. No, he decides, he can't drag Ianto in to this, can't put him in such unnecessary danger. Turning away from Ianto he says, “You should stay here. I work better alone.”

Before Ianto can object, Jack takes the opportunity to scramble over the wall.

As soon as he's down into the compound Jack looks for cover, ducking behind one of the many shipping containers that are stacked along its edge.

Ianto follows a moment later, having climbed on to one of the bin by the wall, before scrambling over with difficulty. Jack grabs his arm as soon as he's over, dragging him behind the cover of the containers. “I thought I told you to wait.”

“They're my friends, Jack, I'm not going to let them down,” he says defiantly. “And stop treating me like I don't understand the danger.”

Realising that he's not going to dissuade Ianto, Jack takes the motel key from his coat pocket, and the Webley from its holster, and hands them to him. “Take these. If anything happens, get back to the room. There's some money there, you should be able to -”

“Don't,” Ianto says, looking unhappy, as he puts the key into his pocket. “Don't tempt fate.” He holds the Webley for a moment then hands it back to Jack, “I'm not a very good shot with my off hand.”

“How's it holding up?” Jack asks, as he notices that Ianto is holding his injured hand against his chest.

“I'm fine,” Ianto replies, still annoyed at him. “Where to now?”

“That building over there.” Jack points to a long, low building on the other side of the compound. “That's where they store lost property, and any illegally owned tech that the Judoon who provide the security for this place confiscate.”

“So we're stealing from them, because you consider what they did was stealing in the first place?” Ianto says, picking up on the emphasis Jack had put on 'illegally owned.'

“What's with all the questions?” Jack asks, a little distractedly, as he watches a pair of Judoon, their visors up, and guns in their hands, patrol the area in a slow circuit of the compound.

“I want to know what to say in my defence when we get caught,” Ianto says watching as the Judoon turn the corner, and are lost amongst the maze of crates and containers.

“I wouldn't worry about that, they tend to shoot first and never ask questions later.”

Ianto gives Jack an irritated look. “If you're trying to scare me, it won't work,”

“I wasn't.”

They watch the Judoon walk past twice more, making sure they know how long they'll have to reach the next row of containers before they return.

As the patrol leave for a third time, Jack nods to Ianto and they break into a crouching run, keeping low, not stopping until they reach the next source of cover.

They repeat this twice more, until they are hidden behind a pile of crates stacked against the warehouse wall, only a few feet away from the door.

The door is secured with a large padlock.

Ianto gives Jack a faintly disbelieving look, before saying quietly, “I thought it would be, well more, alien.”

“You mean hi-tech,” Jack says, amused. “A lot of places out here use the simplest devices they can. You can't hack it, can't short circuit it, and unless you blow the whole thing up you need to get right next to it to be able to do anything.”

“So how are we going to get in?”

“Universal key.” Jack gets what looks like a small stick of pink putty out of his coat pocket. “Stick it in, give it a wiggle and.. you're laughing at me.”

“No.” Ianto stifles another laugh. “Okay, maybe I am, but you're making it sound like a sex toy.”

“I am?”

“Yes.” The tone of Ianto's voice suggests that he doesn't mind, and perhaps even welcomes the humour as a distraction to their current tense situation.

“You keep watch, and tell me if they come back,” Jack says, then moves cautiously towards the door.

Forming the putty into the rough shape and size of a key that will fit, Jack keeps glancing round to make sure that no one has got past Ianto. He feels exposed standing in the open, but there's nothing else for it.

“Jack,” Ianto says, warningly.

“I've nearly got it.” Pressing the putty key blank into the lock, Jack waits a few seconds for it to harden.

“They're coming back,” Ianto whispers urgently. “You've got about half a minute.”

A moment later the lock springs open. Leaving the lock hooked over the catch, so that it still appears to fastened to anybody walking past, Jack opens the door into the warehouse, and they both slip inside.

The building is dimly lit, the contents stacked onto shelves in no discernible order.

Looking around, trying to work out the best place to start their search, Ianto says, “And I thought that Torchwood's filing system was bad.”

On closer inspection the shelves are actually labelled, but only in the date order that the objects on them were acquired.

After fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, Ianto turns to Jack and says, “This is going to take all night. I think we should split up.”

Although he’s not keen on the idea, as splitting up means twice the risk of being caught in his experience, Jack knows that they can’t afford to waste time, and that with two of them searching they can cover twice the amount of space. “All right, but you hear anything and you hide.”

After another half an hour of finding any number of objects that would make him a modest amount of money were he to take them and sell them, Jack is beginning to wonder if he's wrong in his guess that there would be something here that they can use. He's just about to start on another row of shelves when Ianto walks back over to him.

“Have a look at this,” Ianto says, holding up a damaged vortex manipulator for him to see. “Do you think it’s repairable?”

“I’ve not seen one of those in years,” Jack says enthusiastically, taking it from him. “It's an old A class, the original model, issued to the first Time Agents. This thing should be in a museum. Well a few centuries time anyway.”

The main display screen and part of the strap have been sliced through, the staining on the leather suggests that it probably had been attached to the unfortunate Time Agent at the time.

“The spatial circuits should be here.” Jack points to the undamaged part. “That side-” he points to the damaged area. “Would have had the temporal controls.”

“Do you think it still works?” Ianto asks hopefully.

“Only one way to find out.” Jack presses the switch to turn it on. The screen stays blank, although given the level of damage, it’s not exactly surprising. Although it’s a little disappointing that between the three vortex manipulators they now have none of them will allow them to time travel.

“Then I think we should go.” Ianto looks up to where the early morning sunlight is starting to filter through the windows high in the warehouse walls.

“Yeah.” Jack nods. There might be other things that they could use, but the risk of staying longer to find them isn't worth it.

Reaching the door, Jack listens at it for a moment, before opening it slightly, peering round to make sure that there’s nobody outside. He has to duck back almost immediately as the guards walk past.

Removing the universal key, Jack puts the padlock back in place.

The compound seems even more exposed in the light, and they hurry from the cover of one set of containers to another.

They've almost reached the edge of the compound when a siren sounds.

Ianto looks at Jack. “I don't suppose they're just testing their fire alarm, are they?”

“It could be, but when are we ever that lucky?” Jack asks with a grin. “How you feel about running?”

“That it would be a very good idea right now.”

Running through deserted streets, down alleyways and through abandoned buildings, Jack makes their route as directionless as he can. He'll only head back to the motel once he's sure that they aren't being followed.

Half an hour later, and a good way across the city away from the spaceport, they stop in an alleyway to catch their breath.

Jack leans back against the wall, breathless and elated at their success.

Leaning against the opposite wall, Ianto gives him a tired, but pleased smile. “That was insane.”

“Fun though,” Jack replies, realising that, despite his misgivings about dragging Ianto into what could have been a complete mess had they been caught, he's actually having more fun than he has had in a long time.

“You're mad,” Ianto says, laughing, sounding almost carefree for the first time since they met. Ianto's face is flushed and he's breathing hard, his shirt soaked through and clinging to him, damp hair curling and sticking to his forehead, as he looks at Jack.

Before Jack can think about what he's doing, he is leaning forward pressing a kiss to Ianto's lips, relieved when he feels Ianto's hands rest against his chest and not push him away.

The kiss isn't returned, though, and Jack pulls back to find Ianto looking at him with sorrowful eyes.

Ianto smiles sadly at him. "I'm not the man you want."

Just a few simple words, but they hurt more than if Ianto had pushed him away, and for a moment Jack can't turn away, caught in the sad blue gaze.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that” Jack doesn't even try to hide the hurt in his voice. He turns away. The sense of fun and excitement he'd felt just moments before is gone, replaced by grief that feels as fresh and raw as in the immediate aftermath of the 456. “Come on, we should be getting back.”

The walk back to the motel is filled with awkward silence that neither of them is sure how to break.

 

* * *

 

“So this is it then?” Ianto says, looking at the repaired vortex manipulator. The parts from stolen vortex manipulator having eventually been been made to work.

“Yeah,” Jack says a little half-heartedly, knowing that Ianto is going to leave. “Will you come back to….here?” Jack just manages to stop himself from saying ‘to me.’

“Of course,” Ianto replies, sounding a little surprised that Jack could think that he wouldn’t. “Owen and Tosh will want to see you, and you’re our best chance of understanding this world, and of working for Torchwood again.”

“How long will it take?” Jack asks, helping Ianto put on the power cell rig, knowing that any amount of time is going to feel too long.

“I don’t know.” Ianto looks down, more focused on the fastenings than is necessary. “If there’s enough power left in the system three or four hours, maybe a little more, to recharge the cells.”

“And if there’s not?” Jack asks, a sense of foreboding setting in.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” Ianto replies quietly, still not looking at him.

“So you could be going to your death?”

“Maybe. But if I stay here and do nothing they will die,” Ianto says, as he buckles the vortex manipulator about his wrist. “Why does this matter so much to you anyway? You barely know me.”

“Because I don't want to lose you again.”

“I'm not him!”

“Ianto-”

“No, Jack, you don’t get a say in this.” Ianto moves away from him.

“At least let me go with you.”

“You can’t,” Ianto says exasperated. “Just do the math. Two teleports in and four out, as opposed to one in and three out. I know there's not enough power left for that. You'd be killing us all.”

“I could use the device, the one your Jack used,” Jack offers, desperate for any solution where he doesn't feel so powerless to help. “I wouldn’t be using it for long, it’d be safe.”

“No. I know you're trying to help, but this is something that I have to do.” Ianto opens the cover on the vortex manipulator, ready to start inputting the coordinates.

“Wait, at least have a drink before you go. Manipulator travel is pretty dehydrating,” Jack says, trying to stall Ianto just a little longer, a plan forming in his mind. It's not the sort of plan that he wants to think too closely about his motivations in doing it. He knows that saving this Ianto, Owen and Tosh can't make up for his own passed failures, or for any of the other things that he's done.

Walking over to the table, Jack picks up one of the cartons of juice they'd been drinking while working on the manipulator. Making sure that he keeps his back to Ianto, he takes the sleeping draft from his coat pocket, and adds a little to the bottom of a glass before filling it with the juice.

"You're not going to try and talk me out of it again?" Ianto accepts the glass.

"I should know better than that." Jack smiles sadly. "Well, if you're anywhere near as stubborn as the man I knew, it'll be a waste of time."

"Thank you.” Ianto puts a hand on Jack's arm. He smiles slightly, then says, “I do appreciate all that you've done for me, and I meant what I said yesterday, about us needing to talk when I get back.”

"Yeah." Jack wonders if that's going to be a possibility. Given what he's just done, Ianto may well decide never to trust or talk to him again.

Putting the glass down, Ianto blinks. Looking confused he rubs his eyes, then as he realises what Jack has done he takes a couple of stumbling steps towards him.

Jack catches him as he falls forward.

"Bastard," Ianto slurs into Jack's chest as he falls asleep where he stands.

Picking Ianto up, Jack lays him on the bed, knowing that the small amount of the sleeping drug that's he's given him will only work for an hour or so at most.

Removing the power cell rig from Ianto, Jack puts it on, then does the same with the vortex manipulator.

Leaving without a word doesn't seem right after what he has just done, especially as he doesn't want Ianto to think that he's stolen the vortex manipulator. Something that wouldn't be a totally unreasonable assumption based on the fact that he has admitted to being thief.

Looking round, Jack finds Ianto's diary, and pen. Sitting down at the table he writes Ianto a note.

 _Ianto,_

 _I know you're going to be pissed with me, and not just for taking a page out of your diary to write this on. And you've got every right to be, I know that, but if you're angry that means you're still alive, and you being alive is always going to be worth it to me._

 _There's enough money on the card for you to get back to Earth if you still want to go, and to give you something to live on while you get settled. There are contact numbers for Gwen and Martha on the mobile that's in the drawer, if you want to talk to them or rejoin Torchwood. It won't work from here, so you'll have to wait until you get to Earth to call them._

 _I've paid for this room for another week. If I'm not back by then – well you get the picture._

 _You deserve a chance at life, so take it._

 _Jack._

 

Leaving the note, the card, and his mobile on the bedside table, Jack takes one last look around the room. Then, hoping that he's not about to materialise in to the vacuum of space, Jack enters the coordinates into the vortex manipulator, and disappears.


	6. Fic: The Spaces In Between - Part six.

Part six.

 

Travelling between parallel worlds is, Jack has to admit, not as bad as travelling from the end of the universe back to the 21st century in one jump, but not by much.

Disorientated for a moment, Jack leans against one of the towering iron columns that support the roof of the Hub, until it has passed.

The Hub in this world is different. Instead of sleek, flat panel monitors and a few cables running to the mainframe, there are huge banks of antiquated looking CRT monitors and reel-to-reel tape recorders, giving it the look of an old sci-fi film's idea of what the future would look like.

The lift still rises up through the centre, although it's a more substantial structure now, which suggests it opens into something larger than a paving slab in the city above.

The Victorian tiles on the wall, and the sense that whoever designed the place was probably normally employed in designing underground stations is the same though. It makes it seem familiar and strange at the same time, and Jack can't work out if it's the differences or the similarities that are more unsettling, given that he'll never see his own Hub whole like this again.

He doesn't have any more time to think about it though as Tosh calls out, “Owen! There was an energy spike, I think Ianto's back.”

Jack turns round, looking for Tosh, but finds himself facing Owen instead.

Owen stares at him, too surprised to move.

Tosh arrives a moment later, leaning on a cane, her left leg obviously giving her some trouble. “Owen, what is...Jack?”

“The one and only.” He smiles disarmingly. “Well sort of.”

"You're from the parallel world, aren't you? It worked.” She turns to Owen, smiling. “Owen, it worked.”

Looking around, Tosh's smile fades, and she asks, “Where's Ianto?"

“He's all right,” Jack reassures her. Pointing to the vortex manipulator, he adds, “We had a couple of problems with this, so I came instead.”

“He handed all of it over to you?” Tosh says sceptically. “I don't think so.”

“He wasn't exactly in favour of the idea.” Jack takes off the power cells carefully, buying himself a little time to think, knowing that it's probably not the best idea to tell them the whole truth about him getting there. “He said it would be a close thing, you having enough power to leave. So I went while he was asleep.”

“Now that I can believe,” Owen says, somewhere between amused and irritated. “It's just the same sort of bloody stupid thing our Jack would have done.”

“They say great minds think alike,” Jack says with a cocky smile, hoping that this will help reassure them that he's there to help. “So, are you two ready to go?”

“The power cells need to be recharged first, and I need to calculate the energy consumption levels, to make sure we've got enough for the three of us,” Tosh says, walking slowly back to her workstation.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jack asks, needing something to do. Sitting around has never been something that he's good at, not when there might be something that he could be doing.

“Yes.” Tosh gets a device that looks like a tuning fork with a small LCD display on the handle out of the desk drawer. “You can test the cells, find out the power drain. I need to know how much power was used to bring you here. They were all fully charged when you left, weren't they?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That makes things easier.” Tosh hands him the device. “You tell me the current level, and I'll make a start on the calculations.”

“Okay. Forty nine percent,” Jack says, reading out the first of the readings for the power cells. Then pointing to the cane, he asks, “What happened?”

“Gray.” Tosh turns round, the movement obviously causing her some discomfort. “I was lucky really, a little further to the left and I might not have been able to walk at all.”

Or you could have been dead, Jack thinks. Losing Tosh had been hard. She'd been with him longer than anybody else on the team, and it had felt like it was his fault. He'd brought her into Torchwood and he'd failed to keep her safe.

“I guess I wasn't so lucky in your world,” Tosh says, seeing Jack's expression.

“No,” Jack says wearily, all the losses weighing heavily on him. “None of us were.”

“That's Torchwood though, isn't it?” Tosh says with a sad smile. “It's what it does.”

Jack sighs and nods, then takes the reading on the next power cell.

 

Once the readings are all taken, Tosh turns her attention to calculations.

“You mind if I take a look around?” Jack asks, suspecting that Tosh won't want him bothering her while she works.

“There's not much to see,” Tosh answers a little distractedly. “And don't use the lift, there's no shielding outside of the Hub.”

Limited to the main area of the Hub, Jack looks around wondering where he should start, and what he hopes to gain from this.

Jack's office is similar to his own. An old safe in the corner, a large desk, and a hatchway down to a cramped sleeping area.

It's more lived-in though, photos and mementos of Jack's life on Earth displayed on shelves and his desk rather than hidden away. Photos of men and women, friends and lovers from the hundred and forty years he'd spent on Earth. Jack in India in the 1920's. Jack and Estelle on their wedding day. Wearing a diving suit and standing next to Alex Hopkins, the steam ships in Cardiff Docks behind them.

He smiles wistfully at them, fingers lingering on the edges of the frames. It makes him wonder if the old tin box of photos he'd kept in his desk has survived the destruction of the Hub. He's sure that if Gwen has found it in the course of having the Hub rebuilt in she'll keep it safe for him.

On the desk is a small silver frame. The Jack in the photo looks a little older than himself, his hair worn more as he'd done back in the '40's. He looks happy though, Ianto as well, as they with stand arms about each other's shoulders.

Picking it up, Jack sits down in the chair, the photo held in his hands. They look so happy and in love, he wishes he had at least one photo like that of Ianto, something for when he starts to doubt his own memories of the happy times they had together.

Jack looks at the photo one more time, then puts it into his coat pocket, intending to give it to Ianto. Having deprived Ianto of the chance of returning to this world, and collecting any mementos, he thinks that this is the least he can do.

Standing at the door to the office, Jack watches as Tosh takes off her glasses and rubs her eyes.

“What is it?” Jack hears Owen ask.

“There’s not enough power left in the system to recharge the power cells, not enough for all of us anyway.”

“We’re going to be leaving soon, aren't we? Can’t we just take a bit from life support?” Owen asks hopefully.

“I’ve already done that. Even then there isn’t enough power, the shielding around the Hub is going to fail before the cells have recharged.” She sighs.

“There’s something else though, right?” Owen still sounding hopeful. “I mean, you’ve thought of something?”

Tosh nods. “I’ve reduced the shielding to just the main area of the Hub, there’s enough air space here that I can switch off the oxygen filters as well to try and get energy we need.” She looks down. “But even with that I’m not sure that there will be enough.”

The Hub is almost silent once the wheezing groan of the oxygen pumps have stopped. While the dim blue light provided by low energy lamps it give the place an eerie quality. One that makes Jack think of tombs. It’s really not the kind of thought he wants to have, given that if they can’t recharge all the cells, that’s exactly what this place will be for them.

Looking at Tosh and Owen who are sitting on the battered green leather couch next to the only functioning workstation, Jack knows what he needs to do.

Not that the idea of using the piece of tech that killed his counterpart here on this world is appealing, but the situation is such that he doesn’t feel like he’s got much of a choice any more.

“Ianto told me that your Jack used a piece of alien tech to transfer some of his energy to the main power supply.” He looks first at Tosh and then at Owen. “I want give it a try.”

“No,” Tosh says, shaking her head. “We'll find another way, it too dangerous.”

“Believe me, if there’s another way, I want to know about it.” Jack smiles tightly. “But I don't think there is, or you'd have found it by now.”

Still looking less than happy, Tosh says, “Owen, could you fetch the gauntlet from the safe?”

“Don’t say you weren’t warned,” Owen says, before walking over to Jack’s office, muttering under his breath about hero complexes.

“Gauntlet?” Jack asks, his apprehension growing.

“Yes. It came through the Rift years ago. Suzie theorised that it was made by a species which produced large quantities of bio-electrical energy and who had low level psychic abilities.” Opening a drawer in her desk, Tosh takes out a folder containing the information.

“There was a knife of the same material, that was probably used in conjunction with the gauntlet, either to focus the energy, or more likely as a conduit for it so that it could be used in combat.”

“She never used it on people then?”

“No.” Tosh sounds horrified. “Why would anybody do that?”

“To bring them back to life.”

“But all you'd do is electrocute them.” Tosh gives him a puzzled look. “It really doesn't work like that.”

“That's probably a good thing,” Jack says, relieved that the temptation to keep the gauntlet for use in the future isn't there.

“Here you go.” Arriving back, Owen hands Jack the gauntlet. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Jack lies easily. The metal feels cold against his hand, although not as cold and forbidding as the gauntlet from his own world. He hopes that it's a good sign.

Wires lead from the fingers of the gauntlet to a plug so that it can be connected to whatever needs charging.

“How does this work?” Jack asks, hoping that on this world they’ve worked out a better method of using it than just putting it on and hoping it’ll do something you want it to.

“It’s thought-activated as far as we can tell,” Tosh says, picking up the folder of notes. “It's seems to sense the intention of the wearer, the more the wearer wants it to work the better it does. Previous psychic training seems to help as well. I think that's why it was only Jack who could ever get it to work properly.”

Slipping the gauntlet onto his hand, Jack asks, “So how fast can I get these charged?”

“Safely?” Tosh frowns, thinking for a moment. “I think you should try it for a few minutes just to get used to-” She is interrupted by the whine of a warning siren.

“I'm guessing that's not good?” Jack asks. In his experience there are very few good sirens.

“No.” Tosh sits down, looking tired. “It means that the force field around the Hub is failing. In a few minutes we'll start losing atmosphere, and there's nothing I can do.”

They stand in silence for a moment. Then ,looking scared but determined, Owen turns to Jack and says, “There should be enough power for two of you to go. You take Tosh.”

“No,” Tosh says, giving Owen a furious look. “Don’t you start getting all noble with me now.”

“Oi, I’ve been noble loads of times before,” Owen says indignantly. “Anyway, if you go you’ll have time to get the time-travel bit of that thing working and then you can come back and get me.”

“We're all going. I'm not leaving anyone behind,” Jack says, the bickering reminding him of the Tosh and Owen he’s lost. He's not losing them again, not now, not when they are so close to being safe.

“What if we connect it directly to the cells? Would that work, could I transfer the energy faster?”

“Yes, but it could kill you,” Tosh says, obviously not pleased with the direction that the conversation is going.

Given everything that has happened to him, both recently in and the long years since becoming immortal, Jack really can't find anything frightening in that possibility. And he says recklessly, “Certain death versus possible, I know which odds I like better.”

“I guess when you put it like that it does make sense,” Tosh says with a tight smile.

“How are we going to do this then?” Jack asks, looking at the glove, hoping that the changes that need to be done it can be made quickly.

“I need to take the wires out, so you can make a direct connection,” Tosh replies.

Once the last of the wires is removed Jack places his gloved hand directly onto one of the power cells.

Tosh puts her hand on Jack's arm. "If it's getting too much just lift your hand to break the connection.”

“Don't worry, I be fine.” Jack flexes the fingers on the glove. “Let's see what you've got.”

He can feel the glove straight away, the pull of it. It's different from how either Suzie's glove was and the one he'd used to bring Owen back. It's still not entirely pleasant though.

The cold metal of the glove warms quickly, and the feeling of energy being dragged from him is increasingly unpleasant, but it's nothing he can't deal with. Starting to feel a little dizzy, Jack sits down on the floor, the glove still held against the power cell.

“They're not charging fast enough, the shield isn't going to hold that long,” Tosh says, checking the cells' energy levels.

“Can't you make it smaller or something?” Owen asks, sounding scared now, his earlier bravado having deserted him. “Give Jack a bit more time?”

“I'd need a defined area, I don't have time to...” Tosh looks at the lift, then smiles, saying enthusiastically. “Of course, I can use the energy signature generated by the lift's perception filter, refocus the shield on it.”

Tosh goes back to her workstation. “Owen, get Jack to the lift. I need to switch the field from here.”

“But you'll be on the wrong side,” Owen protests.

“There's a time delay.” Tosh starts making a final check of the settings. “I'll have a few seconds to join you. Now get Jack into the lift, we're only going to get one chance at this.”

“I can manage.” Still holding on tightly to the power cells, Jack tries to stand, his legs feeling like rubber, his head spinning.

“Sure you can,” Owen says sarcastically, grabs Jack around the waist, stopping him from falling down.

Jack can feel a cold sweat break out on his forehead as he stumbles across the Hub, leaning on Owen for support.

As soon as they are in the lift Tosh begins the transfer of the shield. It only takes a couple of minutes to complete it, and she pauses for a moment, taking one last look at the Hub, before she finalises the transfer.

Tosh has barely got inside the lift, pulling the metal lattice door closed behind her, when the shield switches on.

Glancing at Jack and Owen to check that they are okay, Tosh opens the control panel on the lift.

“The shield will be strongest where the perception filter is the strongest: the surface,” Tosh explains as she works on re-routing the controls. “There should be just enough residual power left in the system to get us there.”

Still shaking from the effort of moving, Jack leans weakly against the wall of the lift. He knows he can't rest though, that the air in the lift won't last them long.

Releasing the power cells, Jack enjoys a moments relief before he touches two of the fingers to the edge of his vortex manipulator.

“Powering it directly.” He sways on his feet, the effect of the gauntlet seeming more pronounced this time, the pull of energy from him “Only way.”

There's no argument from Owen or Tosh. They all know that if this fails they'll be lost, scattered as atoms through the void between the worlds.

As the lift starts to move there's a rushing noise around it as the air starts to escape from the Hub into the void of space.

The surface of the planet has been scoured bare by the stellar winds now that there is no magnetic or atmospheric protection. They have just a few moments to look at the brilliance of the stars around them, their view uninterrupted by the atmosphere, before the shield starts to shimmer.

“Put you hands on the vortex manipulator. Both of you.” Jack grits his teeth, fighting against the pain and exhaustion that's consuming him. “And hold on.”

With Owen and Tosh holding on to him, they disappear as the last of the shield fails and the remains of the lift are swept from the ground, removing the last traces of life on Earth.


	7. The Spaces In Between - Part seven.

  
  
  
  
**Entry tags:**   
|   
[character: captain jack harkness](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/tag/character%3A%20captain%20jack%20harkness), [character: ianto jones](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/tag/character%3A%20ianto%20jones), [character: toshiko sato](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/tag/character%3A%20toshiko%20sato), [community: tw-big bang](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/tag/community%3A%20tw-big%20bang), [fic type: fic](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/tag/fic%20type%3A%20fic), [rating: pg13](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/tag/rating%3A%20pg13), [series: torchwood](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/tag/series%3A%20torchwood)  
  
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**The Spaces In Between - Part seven.**   
_   


[Part six](http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/126892.html)

  
Part seven.

Materialising back in the motel room, Jack's legs give way beneath him, and he falls to the floor. Only Owen's arm around Tosh stops them being pulled down with him.

Light-headed and completely exhausted, Jack lies where he's fallen, unable to find the energy to roll to a more comfortable position, or even remove the glove from his hand.

He's only vaguely aware of Ianto hurrying over, and kneeling down beside him.

They are all talking, although whether it's to him or about him, Jack can't tell. Everything seems muddled and indistinct, and he closes his eyes, trying to concentrate. It doesn't work, and slowly everything slips away.

* * *

  
Opening eyes, which feel gritty and heavy with sleep, all Jack is conscious of is that the room is dimly lit.

“Drink this,” says a voice that he can't quite place, as they lift his head and hold a glass to his lips.

Drinking is exhausting, and Jack's eyes close again after just a couple of mouthfuls, as he falls back into a dreamless sleep.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, he is vaguely aware of this happening a few more times until he finally wakes, his mind clear. His whole body still seems to ache with tiredness. It's bearable though, and slowly Jack sits up and looks around.

The room is all pastel colours and smells faintly of antiseptic. That, combined with the noise of people trying to be quiet and failing, from the corridor outside, leaves him in little doubt that it’s a hospital.

Not that any of that seems to matter. The fact that he's alone, that there's nothing in the room to suggest that he's been anything other than alone the whole time, seems to eclipse everything else.

Slumping back down against the pillows, it occurs to him that perhaps everything in the last couple of days, Ianto, Tosh, Owen and the whole parallel world, have been nothing but a dream. A hallucination brought about by hitting his head when he was thrown out of the bar, that perhaps he's been lying in this bed ever since.

There's movement at the door and Jack looks round.

“Toshiko?”

“You're awake,” Tosh says, relieved. “Owen thought it would be some time today.”

“You're really here.”

“Yes.” Tosh sounds a little puzzled. “We wouldn't just leave you.”

“I thought I might have imagined it all.” Jack's voice cracks slightly, the rush of relief leaving him feeling a little shaky.

“Do you want me to call one of the nurses?”

Jack shakes his head. Looking over at the jug and glass on the the table, he says, “But I wouldn't say no to something to drink.”

“How long have I been out?” Jack asks as Tosh hands him a glass of water.

“Nearly three days.”

Jack is silent for a moment, trying to process what being out for so long while not being dead means. He doesn't have any answers.

Needing something else to think about he looks at the cane Tosh has left by her chair. "Is there anything that they can do?"

“The nerves have been damaged too long to get any feeling back,” Tosh says, sounding resigned, as she sits down in the chair by the bed. “But they've managed to stop the pain.”

“I'm sorry they couldn't do more.”

“Don't be. I think I'd given up hope of it ever getting any better.” Tosh looks thoughtful for a moment then asks, “It's not going to be a problem, is it?”

“What?”

“My leg,” Tosh says, sounding a little self-conscious. “Ianto did tell you that we want to keep working for Torchwood, if possible, when we get to Earth, didn't he?”

“He did, and it won't,” Jack reassures her. “If you want the job, it's yours. Same goes for Ianto and Owen.” He looks around. “Where are Owen and Ianto?”

“They went to get some food. I think Owen's exact words were, 'different planet, different dimension and hospital food is still crap.'”

Jack laughs, starting to feel better. “So how did you manage to get me a private room?”

“Apparently if you tell the hospital staff that you're all Time Agents they suddenly get very co-operative,” Tosh says, a slightly mischievous glint in her eyes. “I think might have scared them a little. It's amazing what people will assume if you just let them fill in the blanks themselves.”

“Ohh devious,” Jack says, impressed. He appreciates a well pulled con. It does remind him though of what he'd done to travel to the parallel world instead of Ianto.

“How's Ianto?” He knows that Ianto has every right to furious with him after what he did, but he hopes that because of how it turned out, Ianto will forgive him.

“Annoyed.”

It's not Tosh that has answered, and Jack looks looks round to see Ianto leaning against the door frame, watching them.

“We're still friends, right?” Jack asks, not caring about the edge of vulnerability that's crept into his voice.

“Of course.” Ianto sits down on the edge of the bed close to Jack. “You saved Tosh and Owen's lives, mine as well, by doing what you did.”

“So we're okay then?”

“We are.” He looks at Jack, his gaze becoming harder for a moment as he adds, “but if you ever do that again, I might have to reconsider.”

Jack is left in little doubt that Ianto means drugging him. It surprises him that Ianto doesn't seem to have told either Tosh or Owen about what he'd done. He's grateful though, as he's not sure that they would understand.

He can't promise he'll never do anything like that again though, because he knows that if it would save any of their lives, he would do it without a second thought.

Ianto seems to realise this, and there's a slightly awkward pause. He seems about to says something when Owen arrives, carrying a bag of take out.

Whatever Ianto was about to say is lost, as he gets up to help Owen sort out the food.

  
* * *

  
The evening air is cool, the clouds racing in the stiff breeze, as Jack stands on the roof of the motel, looking out at the city.

Released from the hospital a few hours earlier, because the staff could find nothing wrong with him, Jack is glad to finally get a few minutes to himself to get his thoughts in order before they head back to Earth.

He's still standing there, lost in thought when he hears the door to the roof open and close behind him.

“I thought I'd find you up here,” Ianto says, leaning on the railing beside him.

“You know me that well already?”

Ianto looks out over the city, his expression troubled. “Not really.” He sighs. “But I knew him. It's hard seeing you, and remembering what we had. Sometimes I...”

“I know what you mean.”

“I thought you might want this.”

Jack turns to look at Ianto for the first time, seeing the coat folded over his arm. “You had it cleaned.” Jack runs his hand across the familiar grey-blue wool.

“Repaired too,” Ianto says, holding it out so that Jack can put it on.

“You didn't have to.”

“I know.” A small, sad smile tugs at Ianto's lips. “But I needed to do something while we waited for you to wake up.”

Jack reaches into the pocket, looking for the photo.

“It's safe.” Ianto's hand strays to the inside pocket of of his suit jacket. “And thank you. It was his favourite, I would have hated to have lost it.”

“Least I could do.”

“All the same, thank you.”

They stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both preoccupied with their own thoughts.

“You'll come back to Earth with us, won't you?” Ianto asks finally speaking what's on his mind, and trying to sound like it doesn't matter to him, when it obviously does.

“Yeah.” Jack closes his eyes, feeling the wind in his hair, and for a moment he can imagine himself standing high up on one of the buildings overlooking Cardiff. Letting out a slow breath, he opens his eyes. “It's time.”

* * *

  
The spaceport is busy, and finding a ship travelling past Earth isn't difficult. It's a little disappointing, Jack thinks, that most of the ships, including the one they are now booked on, are cargo ships that take on a few passengers, he'd have liked to have shown them a proper space-going passenger liner.

“A couple more days and we'll be on Earth,” Ianto says, walking over to Jack. “Does Torchwood know we're coming?”

“Gwen won't mind.”

“You haven't told her you're coming back?” Ianto asks, surprised.

“You think I should?” Jack asks. He'd been planning on just turning up, making one of his dramatic entrances and picking up the running of Torchwood from where he'd left off.

“I think it would be polite.”

There are a row of public video phones in the waiting room at the spaceport,

“Hey,” Jack calls over to one of the staff. “What’s the range on this thing?”

“Planet and near orbit,” he says, walking over to Jack. “Where do you want to call?”

“Third planet, Sol system.”

“Not a chance, mate, sorry.” He wanders away.

Once he’s gone, Tosh, who's been watching what has been going on, looks at the back of the screen and says, “Give me five minutes, and your phone, I think I can do something about this.”

  
It takes a little longer than five minutes, but eventually Tosh says, “There will be a bit of a time delay on this, but it should work now.”

“You are a genius.” Jack gives her a quick hug.

Tosh smiles. “Go on, make the call, before somebody realised I've improved their tech.”

The screen flickers for a moment, the image wavering in and out of focus before becoming stable.

Gwen is turned away from the screen as they make the connection.

Jack taps the screen, then asks loud enough to get Gwen's attention, “You missed me?”

Gwen turns round, confusion turning to delight as she sees who it is.

“Jack!” Gwen says, excited, leaning closer to the screen. “Where have you been? It's been months.”

“Oh, here and there, went to a few bars, saved some people, travelled to a parallel world.” Jack smiles disarmingly, not wanting her to ask how he is. “Nothing exciting. How about you?”

“Had a baby, saved the world a couple of times, met the queen.” She returns his smile. “It's all been a bit mad really.”

“And Torchwood is managing okay?”

“It's still here.” She gives him a tired smile, happiness being replaced by something more melancholy. “I've got Andy and Lois helping organise the rebuilding work and dealing with London. It's slow going though. I think we're going to be working out of my house for a while yet.”

“Look on the bright side, we'll save a fortune on take-out with Rhys' cooking.”

“We?” Gwen asks excitedly, “You're coming back?”

“Yeah.” Jack nods, pleased to see Gwen so happy. “I'm coming home, and I'm bringing a few friends with me.”

“Oh.” Gwen looks surprised, and a little doubtful. “They're aliens, then?

“Not exactly. I know you'll want to meet them.” Jack moves back from the screen so that she can see Owen, Tosh and Ianto.

“Bloody hell.” Gwen stares wide eyed at them, then turning away from the screen, says, “Rhys come over here, tell me I’m not imagining this.”

A moment later Rhys moves into view, holding the baby.

Rhys stares at the screen, confused, before saying to Gwen, “Well if you're imaging it, then so am I.”

Jack looks all of them. His team.

It's going to be hard going back to Earth, knowing what happened there and his involvement in it. And part of him feels guilty for being so happy at having what feels like a second with his team. Especially when he's been unable to do anything about what happened to Stephen.

It's time though to go back though. Time to help keep Earth safe. It's what he does. It's what Torchwood does. The 21st century is where it all changes, and with his new team with him Jack knows that they'll be ready.

  
The End.


End file.
